


The Love of Learning

by reachfortheschuyler



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Running Away, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 05:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13697826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachfortheschuyler/pseuds/reachfortheschuyler
Summary: Regina, Princess of York, spends her weekly lessons learning about rocks and minerals, reading the great works of literature, and kissing her tutor, Robin of Locksley. She's a princess, he's a commoner. In a society built to keep them apart, these two lovers may just find a way to keep their souls entwined.





	The Love of Learning

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, Ana! Thank you so, so much for being patient as I added the finishing touches to this. You were an absolute delight to talk to this past month, and I hope you like what I wrote for you. There are plenty of sweet, romantic moments mixed with some drama and, I promise, a happy ending! Enjoy, valentine!

His life rests in learning. From boyhood, he has learned and studied and read. He is accomplished in his works, his own research, his own contributions to the overwhelming realm of academia. If he wanted, he could travel the world and study whatever his heart desired. But as it were, he hasn't left the kingdom in which he was born and reared. And as it were, he need not travel far to study the object of his heart's desire.

For what a marvel she is.

Princess Regina of York has captured his heart, his mind, the fibers of his soul, and Robin will be damned if he ever finds something or someone more worthy of study and revery. 

She is brilliant and clever, possesses a mind deserving of far more than dance steps and fashionable attire and polite conversations. She is his most brilliant student, the only one who learns for the sole love of learning. She could change the world with her discoveries if only she was given the chance. 

She prefers science whereas he himself is a literary man, but he would happily spend days waxing eloquent about the many kinds of rocks and minerals at the bottom of a creek bed if it meant her eyes would never cease to sparkle.

They're sparkling now as she examines a piece of gold rock, one eye shut as she focuses her gaze through the magnifying glass held primly in her hand. Her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth, a habit Robin finds both adorable and maddening at the same time.

He smiles fondly at her from his spot against the windowsill. He's trying to trick her with this latest test, and the longer she studies the objects before her, the more he thinks he might have succeeded for once. But then she smiles brightly and he is lost in more ways than one.

“Do you have an answer, Your Majesty?” Robin asks, pushing himself off the sill to cross the small distance to her desk.

“You tried to trick me,” Regina says proudly, as if she's cracked his code.

“Then let's hear if I succeeded,” he replies.

Regina raises an eyebrow, an acceptance of his challenge, and then holds up the gold rock she had been studying the past few minutes. “You gave me this hoping to trick me into saying it was gold,” she declares. “And it's not.”

Robin chuckles, caught, and presses his palms to the top of her desk. “Then what would it be, Your Majesty?”

“Well,” Regina begins, standing. “At first glance, anyone would say it's gold, but when you look closer, it's quite obviously pyrite. Pretty, but not worth much. Otherwise known as fool's gold.”

“And what led you to that conclusion?”

Regina sets the magnifying glass down, then scratches her thumbnail along the edge of the rock, causing some tiny flecks to fall onto her desk. “Gold is malleable and wouldn't chip away when scratched. And-” She takes the rock in both hands and snaps it in half, coating her fingernails in the grayish dust of the mineral’s core. “Gold is not brittle. It bends before breaking, unlike pyrite which is quite easily broken, when the right amount of force is applied.”

She looks up at him expectantly. “Correct?”

Robin smiles and nods, leaning forward, closer to her. “Correct. Now, what of the mineral?”

Regina grins coyly, glances up at him through her eyelashes. “It's not a mineral,” she counters. “But you knew that.”

“Did I?” Robin teases, coming around the desk to stand behind her. She turns to face him, reaching back blindly to pick up the yet to be named rock.

“I do believe you did,” she murmurs, tongue darting out to lick her lips.

Robin's fingers clench and unclench at his sides, breath growing shallower the longer she looks at him like that. Heatedly. Seductively. Playfully. He may know that rock is not a mineral, but she knows just what she's doing to him. “Well, seeing as I am the teacher…” He leans in closer, until he can feel her breath on his skin. “I should know what I am teaching you.”

Regina hums, eyes flickering down to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. “And am I learning what you are teaching me?” she murmurs, reaching back and placing the rock on her desk. “Have I been performing to your satisfaction?”

God above, give him the strength. There’s barely an inch of space between them and even that feels too much, despite the flames threatening to ignite off their skin. “I’m not sure,” Robin says, bringing a hand up and running his finger along her collarbone. “I may have to do another skills assessment. To be sure you are learning.”

“I think that would be most prudent,” she agrees on a breath, her head tipping back slightly as his finger explores her skin.

“Well then. Allow me to start right here,” he breathes, finally leaning forward and capturing her mouth with his own. She moans almost instantly, her hands flying up to fist in his tunic. God, her lips are so soft, so wonderfully full. He wraps an arm around her waist, holding her tightly against where he is starting to harden for her. Even through the layers of her skirts, she must feel his arousal because she moans again, kisses him more fiercely, one hand leaving his shirt to fist in his hair. Robin takes a step until she is pressed between him and her desk where the unnamed mineral lays long forgotten. Gods, he could kiss her until his lungs collapsed and her lips were all he had left to live on.

“You smell like the ocean,” she murmurs, scratching her fingernails against his scalp.

“Mm, I was at the docks this morning,” he rasps against her neck as he drops a line of kisses down the side. “I have a friend who’s visiting for a bit. He’s taking a short break from his travels.”

Regina hooks her ankle around his calf and tugs him closer. “Hmm… I think I like your usual forest better.”

Robin chuckles and nips her skin. “I told you, it’s not the forest. There’s just a large pine tree near my room.”

“Still smells like forest. Oh, mm… Robin,” she sighs, tilting her head back as he trails his affection back up her neck. “You know we can’t… not today. The delegation from Saxony is coming… and I- mm, that feels good… and I have to be there to meet them.”

“And your mother will be enraged if you’re absent, I presume?” Robin murmurs against her pulse point, swirling his tongue in a way that makes her breath stop short.

Regina nods. “You know she will be.”

Robin hums and kisses his way along her jaw. “Then I say… let her rage,” he whispers in her ear, stifling the start of her protest by reclaiming her mouth, swiping his tongue across the seam of her lips until she opens further for him. He runs his palms up her sides, bringing his hands to rest underneath the swells of her breasts, confined but pushed up by the cinch of her corset. She’s in dark blue today, a bit of lace spilling over the top of her dress to frame her chest in a way that had enticed him from the start of their lesson. And as enchanting as she is in her gown, she’d be even more without it. Robin reaches behind her for the ties on her corset, but just as he’s about to pull one free-

“Regina, darling, are you in there?”

Robin groans quietly and drops his forehead to Regina’s collarbone, unwilling to let her go but releasing her when she pushes gently on his shoulders.

“I told you we didn’t have time,” she teases softly, rubbing her thumb underneath his bottom lip, presumably to wipe away a spot of her rouge from his skin.

“I was hoping you were wrong.”

She smiles and pats his cheek. “Just because you’re the teacher, doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two.”

“Regina?”

“Come in, Daddy,” she calls in response, taking several steps away from Robin and smoothing out her skirts in the process.

The door to her chambers opens and Prince Henry, Duke of York walks in, smiling at his youngest daughter. “Darling,” he greets, taking her hands and kissing her cheek. “You look beautiful today.”

_ Stunning is a better word _ , Robin thinks to himself as he starts cleaning up the study materials from Regina’s desk. He places the rocks and minerals back in their respective boxes and then slips them into his leather satchel as Regina thanks her father for the compliment.

“Oh, are you finished with your lessons?” Henry asks, peering over Regina’s shoulder at Robin.

“We were just finishing up,” she answers. “I know Mother is expecting me to greet the delegation from Saxony soon.”

“No need to worry about that anymore, dear,” Henry says. “They’re already here.”

The color drains from Regina’s face. “Already? But I thought-”

“They arrived early,” Henry explains, patting the back of her hand. “Don’t fret, your mother knows you were occupied.”

Robin resists the urge to scowl as he stacks books together. So there  _ was  _ time to ravish her properly. 

“She’s not upset? She’s been reminding me all week-”

“I promise she’s not angry,” Henry interrupts, slipping his arm through hers and leading her toward the chaise near her balcony. “She merely requests your presence at supper.”

Regina sits and looks up at her father, a slight bit of worry on her face that is visible to Robin even across the room. They drop their voices so he can’t hear the remainder of the conversation, but whatever they’re saying puts a smile back on Regina’s face, so he can’t really complain. She doesn’t smile often in the castle, her mouth usually tipped down by her mother and sister, but her father has a tendency to bring out a grin when she needs it.

Robin shoulders his satchel and tucks the remainder of his books under his arm, waiting for them to finish talking so he can bid Regina goodbye, but the prince surprises him by turning around.

“Robin, why don’t you join us for supper?” Henry asks with a kind smile.

Robin straightens and stammers. “Uh- supper? Oh, I don’t… I’m not sure if I’d be welcome-”

“Nonsense,” Henry says. “We would love to have you. It’s going to be very casual tonight. Some dancing and music- you can play the piano for us.”

Robin clears his throat. “Oh, uh, her Majesty is quite skilled in the piano. I’m sure she can-”

“Robin, your prince invited you to supper,” Regina says regally as she stands and takes her father’s arm. “And so is your princess. It would be rude to refuse.” She smiles saccharinely at Henry and then turns that smile on Robin, her eyes glinting in a way that tells him he damn well better come to supper.

Robin blows out a breath and then bows, forcing a smile. “Of course, your Majesty. It would be an honor to attend.”

“Wonderful,” Henry says, patting Regina’s hand. “We’re dining at six. I will see you both there.” He kisses Regina on the cheek and then exits, nodding at Robin as he passes.

Regina waits until her father has shut the door before sashaying over to Robin, coy smile on her face.

Robin frowns and grips the strap of his satchel. “Your mother is going to-”

“My mother,” Regina interrupts, placing a finger on his lips, “Is going to be too worried about impressing the Duke to complain about you being there.” She runs her hands across his shoulders and down to his elbows. “And if she says anything, I’ll tell her she can take it up with Daddy.”

Robin continues to frown despite the thrill in Regina’s eyes. Princess Cora is not a fan of his, and she has made a point of letting him know. Snide comments, sneers, a passing remark of, “Once Regina gets over her little book infatuation…” have all been tossed his way over the past two years. And as much as Robin wishes he could just ignore the princess’s disdain, it’s become more and more difficult the fonder he grows of her daughter.

“She already doesn’t like me,” Robin reminds Regina, placing his hands on her waist. “I’m not so sure interrupting her diplomacy efforts will help my case.”

Regina dismisses his worries with a shake of her head. “I told you, she’ll hardly pay you any mind.” That coy smile returns to her face. “Which means you can pay  _ me  _ some mind instead.” She leans in and presses a kiss to the side of his neck, tongue peaking out just enough to make him swallow a bit thickly.

“Regina…” Robin sighs, bringing a hand up to run through her hair. She’s worn it down today, her curls looser than normal. He imagines she went riding earlier and the wind had whipped her hair around enough to take the spring out of the ringlets. “You know we can’t act like this… not where other people might see.”

She pulls back with a pout, her lips so full and inviting he can’t help but steal a kiss.

“If anyone found out about us-”

“I know.” She brings her hands back up to his shoulders and smooths out the front of his doublet. “Sometimes I just like to pretend that we don’t have to hide. That I can take your hand in the courtyard or kiss you in the corridor and no one will bat an eye.” She looks down at where their torsos press together. “It’s not fair.”

“Yes, it’s terribly unfair that I’ve fallen in love with a beautiful, brilliant princess,” Robin teases. “Fate has been ungodly cruel.”

She levels him with a look. “You know what I mean.”

He does know what she means. Having to hide their relationship, to conceal the love he feels for her, it’s frustrating. And he wishes he could tell her that one day they won’t have to hide anymore, that they’ll be able to bring their love into the light, but she is a princess. Destined for a life of luxury, comfort, and excess. And he is simply a tutor. Destined for a life of simplicity, necessity, and hard work. Their lives don’t fit. It’s wrong to hope that they might be able to actually be together outside of the shadows. But he can’t very well tell her that, not when she’s looking at him so miserably, her eyes conflicted even as she continues to hold him close.

Robin sighs and hooks a finger under her chin, bringing her mouth to his in a soft kiss. “I know,” he replies, sliding his hand up to rub his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “But you know what else I know?”

She shakes her head. “What?”

“I know that I love you,” Robin says sincerely, dimples deepening as a bashful smile spreads across her face.

“I love you, too,” Regina murmurs, leaning up on her tiptoes to dot a kiss on his cheek.

“And I also know that we have well over an hour until we’re expected for supper,” Robin continues as he grips her hips and starts walking her backwards slowly. She fights against her smile as he grins cheekily at her, eyes glinting with playfulness. Her back hits the wall and she slides her hands up his arms, settling on his elbows. “And I have absolutely no idea what we might do until then, do you?” Robin teases just before ducking in and claiming her lips in a heated kiss, reveling in her approving hum.

It’s a distraction, he knows it is. A way to avoid talking about their future and what it may- or may not- hold for them. But as her tutor, he’s supposed to be the man with the answers, and he doesn’t have an answer for her. He can’t just open up one of his books and find the solution to a forbidden love that is more than likely going to end in heartbreak and pain. So he indulges in the present, commits to memory the taste and feel and sound of her, the way she fits so perfectly against him, and ignores the stubborn thought in the back of his mind that they will never be able to have more than this.

* * *

Supper begins smoothly. It’s just as Daddy had said- relaxed, almost casual. The royal quartet serenades the ballroom while the food is finishing up, and members of the Duke’s party as well as members of Daddy’s court have struck up a dance in the middle of the room, laughing and goofing off as they teach each other dance steps from their respective countries. Daddy smiles as he watches, speaking with the Duke while laughing at the whims of some of the younger, rambunctious lords and ladies in his court.

Regina stands to the side, nursing a glass of wine the same color as her gown. She does not care to dance much, and she cares even less to dance with the loud Saxons that Duke Blanchard has brought with him, no matter how many glares Mother sends her way. No, she will stand right here until supper is ready, forcing smiles when necessary and counting down the minutes to when she can remove the heavy tiara from her head. She looks around the room for the third time in five minutes, wondering where Robin could have gotten to and why he hasn’t appeared yet. 

Not half an hour ago, he had left her chambers to freshen up, leaving her wearing nothing more than a satisfied smile in her bed. She had gotten dressed and ready in record time, dismissing her chambermaids when they had knocked, knowing it would be faster if she just did it herself. She had thought he would already be here, but seeing no sign of the blue eyes that infiltrate her dreams each night, she picked a glass of wine and a spot in the corner to wait for either supper or Robin, whichever came first.

He better not have changed his mind and left. She will absolutely kill him if-

“Drinking already, Regina? Were your books especially taxing today?”

Regina bites the inside of her cheek as her older sister Zelena comes up beside her. She’s wearing an emerald green gown with silver embellishments that complement the silver tiara perched in her bright red hair. She’d be beautiful if it weren’t for the mocking sneer on her face.

“Still dressed, Zelena? I’m surprised your petticoats have stayed on this long with all the masculine wealth in the room.”

Zelena rolls her eyes. “Lord, you’re foul,” she says dismissively. “No wonder Mother always says the only husband who will take you is one who can smack you silent.”

“And the one who’s taking you must be hard of hearing so he won’t have to listen to your shrill voice all day,” Regina shoots back, smiling fakely at one of Daddy’s barons who passes by.

“The Lord of Nottingham is  _ not  _ hard of hearing,” Zelena scoffs. “And do try to not be so rude. It’s unbecoming of you. And so is standing in a corner glowering while we are hosting guests.”

“I’m not glowering.”

“Oh please, I’m pretty sure your wine has gone sour from how hard you’ve been frowning at it.” Zelena tosses her red ringlets over her shoulder. “What’s the matter? Not thrilled with our Saxon visitors?”

Before Regina can answer, a loud shout of cheers erupts on the dancefloor for whatever reason. “They are a bit… rambunctious,” Regina says carefully, knowing that whatever she tells her sister will be whispered in their mother’s ear before night’s end.

“Mm, yes. Rambunctious… and rich,” Zelena adds, eyeing up their guests with interest. “Mother is hellbent on forming better economic ties with them. If we align well with Saxony, we’ll be connected with the entire eastern side of the continent. And  _ that  _ will get us in better with the Indies.” She tilts her head back and sighs dramatically. “Just think of the  _ silk,  _ Regina.”

“I thought Grandfather favored the Western routes to the Indies,” Regina says. “We don’t need Saxony for those.”

“The Western routes to the Indies are indirect,” Zelena snaps, looking at Regina like she’s never met a stupider person. “The new maps of the New World show that it is much larger than originally charted. How do you not know that? What is that idiot even teaching you in those lessons?”

Regina straightens her spine, ready to declare that Robin is  _ not  _ an idiot, thank you very much, when the man himself finally enters the ballroom, looking around with uncertainty.

“I’ll have you  _ know _ , dear sister, that the idiot you speak of has been printed in academic journals throughout the kingdom and has been invited to study in both Rome and Portugal,” Regina says haughtily, handing her empty wine glass to a nearby servant. “And that he teaches me  _ plenty  _ of things in my lessons, including that gold is the most dense of the precious metals, which has led me to conclude that your head must be filled with it for you to be so uncommonly stupid.”

And with that, Regina gathers her skirts and leaves her sister stammering for a rebuttal. She smiles and nods at members of court as she weaves through the crowd, turning down more than one invitation to join the dance floor. Robin’s standing a bit awkwardly in the corner, eyes flitting around the room.

“You came,” Regina says by way of greeting, smiling as she approaches.

Robin turns and bows formally. “Your Majesty,” he replies a bit stiffly. “I could not refuse an invitation from the prince, could I?”

Regina raises an eyebrow as she extends her hand. “I believe I am the one who told you that, am I not?”

“Yes, well, your Majesty tends to be right more than wrong,” Robin teases, taking her hand to kiss her knuckles.

“I believe you mean to say that I am  _ never _ wrong, sir,” Regina says, lifting her head with a haughty grin.

“Of course,” Robin concedes. “Forgive me.” He glances around at the movement and merriment surrounding them. “I’m afraid I don’t really know how things like this operate. If it’s supper, aren’t we supposed to be… supping?”

“One would think that,” Regina laughs. “But I’m afraid food is only part of the whole drawn out affair. There’s the dancing before supper, and the dancing after supper. The toasts and little speeches because everyone needs to know how pleased everyone else is that we’ve come together to break bread and build friendships.”

“I take it those are common phrases we’ll be hearing frequently tonight?”

“I’d be surprised if we hear them less than three times.”

Robin smiles and offers his arm. Regina takes it gladly, her stomach fluttering at the thought that he’s willing to actually touch her in public, innocent though it may be. He leads her toward the far end of the ballroom, where there are less people and, she can’t help but notice, away from where her mother is talking to Duke Leopold.

“Are these things always so… loud?” Robin asks as several Saxons strike up a German rendition of whatever song is playing.

“No, usually they are much more subdued,” Regina answers. “Mother likes it that way, so I can only imagine how difficult it is for her to not say anything about the Saxons’ liveliness.”

“Do you think she’s making her pinchy face? You know, the one where it looks like she has to take a-”

“Robin!” Regina interrupts, slightly scandalized despite the laugh trying to bubble out. She doesn’t often remember that Robin isn’t accustomed to this lifestyle, but there are some things he does that remind her. Like now. “You can’t say things like that here.”

“Ah, yes, please forgive me,” Robin apologizes, though from his tone and his dimples peeking out, she can tell he isn’t sorry in the least. “So tell me, your Majesty,” he says leadingly. “If dancing is supposed to come before dinner… shouldn’t a lady as lovely as you be dancing?”

“And risk getting my toes stepped on by an uncouth Saxon?” Regina scoffs. “I don’t think so.” She leans in close to his ear and murmurs, “Perhaps I was waiting for the right person to ask me.”

“The right person, hm?” Robin repeats with a teasing grin. “And who might this right person be?”

_ You, you idiot, _ Regina thinks to herself as she rolls her eyes because of course he’s going to make her say it. But before she gets the chance-

“What are  _ you  _ doing here?”

Regina jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, spinning around to face an obviously irate princess. “Mother,” she says, her heart cracking when she feels Robin quickly pull his arm from her grasp. “I thought you were talking to the Duke.”

“I was, and now I’m talking to you,” Cora retorts, sliding her disapproving gaze from her daughter to Robin. “What are you doing here? This is not a place for filth.”

“I apologize, your Majesty, I-”

“Daddy invited him,” Regina interrupts, squaring her shoulders. “And Robin did not want to disappoint his prince, so-”

“Oh, good, then you won’t want to disappoint your princess, either,” Cora snaps. “Leave.”

“But Mother, Daddy said-”

“I don’t give a damn what your father said, Regina. I will not have our guests thinking we associate with,” she eyes Robin up and down with disgust, “ _ vermin.” _

“Mother!”

“If you’ll excuse me, your Majesties, I’ll just be taking my leave,” Robin mutters with a bow, his eyes cast down to the floor.

“No- Robin, don’t-”

“Yes, be on your way and make sure to wipe up any dirt you dragged in with you,” Cora says, eyebrows raised. “And if you ever lay a hand on my daughter again, I will have you hung up by your toes and cut your fingers off one by one.” She reaches out and grabs Regina’s wrist. “Come with me, dear.”

“No!” Regina cries, yanking herself free from her mother’s grasp. “How dare you say such things to him?! Robin does not deserve-”

“He doesn’t  _ deserve  _ anything, and I will not stand here and argue with you over the merits of a worthless writer. Now there are important people who wish to meet you and you have neglected to so much as  _ introduce yourself  _ to the Duke. I will not tolerate your rudeness any longer.” Cora grips Regina’s elbow and pulls her forcefully toward where Duke Blanchard is standing, giving her no choice but to follow.

Regina looks over her shoulder and feels her insides implode because at some point in their argument, Robin did indeed take his leave and she cannot stomach the thought of him spending the next week believing her mother’s words to be true. She casts her eyes frantically over the ballroom even as her mother continues to pull her, hoping beyond hope that Robin didn’t actually leave yet.

They’re a few feet from the small crowd surrounding the Duke when Regina spots him by the door, obviously hesitating as he too looks around the ballroom. It takes a second, but then their eyes lock and Regina’s heart leaps into her throat. She’s about to pull away from her mother again, to run to Robin without a care for who sees, but Robin must know her intentions because he shakes his head, a sad but resigned smile on his face.

He’s telling her to stay. She knows she needs to stay, but as Robin bows one last time in her direction and walks out the door, she wants nothing more than to chase after him and together run far, far away.

* * *

Regina is sitting at her vanity later that night, brushing her hair, when Mother enters her room. Sometimes she knocks and sometimes she doesn’t, and tonight she must have decided that knocking was unnecessary because she strides into the room as if it’s her own.

“Good, you’re still awake,” she says in place of a greeting.

Regina doesn’t even bother to turn around, choosing to merely glance at her mother’s reflection in the mirror before returning her attention to her hairbrush. “I doubt it would have mattered if I wasn’t,” she mumbles, tugging at a knot stuck in her ends.

“I hope I don’t have to tell you how disappointed I am in your behavior this evening,” Cora states, crossing her arms. “You acted like a child, and frankly, it was embarrassing.”

Regina bites down hard on her bottom lip, forcing herself to hold back even as the look of resignation of Robin’s face remains fresh in her mind. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she says dully, automatically.  _ Sorry that I didn’t run after Robin and tell you to shove it. _

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” Cora says in a tone that says they both know she’s not. She clasps her hands together. “But, we can put that all behind us. I have some good news.”

Regina sets her brush down and begins to plait her hair, pulling it over her shoulder so she can watch her movements in the mirror. “Good news?” she echoes, not bothering to mask her disinterest. Anything her mother classifies as good news is most likely to be the opposite, and after what happened earlier tonight, she really does not care to hear a single thing from her mother’s mouth.

“Yes. I have finally managed to find you a husband.”

Regina freezes. “What?”

“Duke Blanchard’s wife died last year and he has been looking for a new bride for a few months now. He mentioned something to me at supper tonight about how…  _ enchanting  _ I believe was the word he used-yes, how enchanting you looked and the idea struck the both of us.”

“Wait, the- the  _ Duke?”  _ Regina exclaims, whirling around in her seat. “But… but… he… I-”

“Stop stammering, for Lord’s sake,” Mother snaps. “You know how it gives me a headache.”

“But the Duke, he’s-”

“Rich? Yes, he’s quite wealthy,” Cora says. “I’m sure the people of York will thank you profusely for forging such a lucrative economic tie.”

“But he’s so old!”

Cora rolls her eyes. “Your father is older than me, but that didn’t stop me from marrying him.”

“Daddy is five years older than you, not forty!” Regina cries, standing up. “Mother, you cannot be serious! I  _ can’t  _ marry the Duke! I don’t even know him!”

“So?” Cora replies, as if she’s never heard anything so stupid. “You’ll get to know him. That’s no reason not to marry someone.”

“But-”

“Enough, Regina!” Cora yells. “I don’t want to hear another word. You are marrying Duke Blanchard and that is final. Now, start packing your things. You’re leaving with him at the end of the week.”

Regina gapes at her mother, eyes wide in disbelief. This cannot be happening. This  _ cannot  _ be happening. She knew her mother has wanted to marry her off for sometime, but she always thought she would end up the wife of some English lord or baron. Someone she was at least familiar with, someone who at least lived in the same  _ kingdom _ . She should be panicking, and she is, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, thinking of her future with a man as old as her grandfather, of being the wife of someone she doesn’t even know, of living somewhere far away and foreign. 

But then her mind is bombarded with memories of a pair of blue eyes that look at her so lovingly, of hands that hold and comfort her, of the smile that sends her heart fluttering, and suddenly, that is all she can think about. All she can think about is Robin, and how she might be leaving him forever.

* * *

Robin can’t sleep. He tried, tossed and turned for the better part of an hour, but his mind wouldn’t settle. Still won’t settle, even as he reads and rereads the same page of Machiavelli over and over again, trying to focus and failing miserably. He can’t stop thinking of Regina. Of how bloody beautiful she looked tonight, the deep red of her dress brightening and accentuating every feature he so loves about her. Of how excited she was to see him, how uncaring she was that other people were around. Of the fear in her eyes when her mother had approached them, the anger on his behalf, and the desperation when she was pulled away from him.

He had left her then, knowing it had been a mistake for him to even show up at all, regardless of Prince Henry’s invitation. He didn’t want to leave her, he never wants to leave her, but he knew staying would only make things worse. And if leaving her is hard, knowing he might have caused her unnecessary grief at the hands of her mother is harder.

He reaches the end of the page and realizes he hasn’t read a single word. Again. With a frustrated sigh, he slams Machiavelli closed and tosses the book carelessly onto his nightstand, flopping over onto his side pointlessly because he’s not going to sleep tonight. Probably won’t sleep for the rest of the week until he sees Regina again.  _ If  _ he sees Regina again. Because if Princess Cora has her way, he’ll most likely be relieved of his duties before the Lord’s Day, and then he’ll never-

There’s a knock on his door and Robin sits up, curious. It’s past midnight, certainly, and he can’t imagine who would be knocking on his door at such an hour. As he stands and crosses the room, a small, ridiculous part of him hopes it’s Regina, but the chances of that are-

Apparently very high.

It is Regina. His Regina, face partially covered by the hood of her cloak, features masked by the moonlight, but Regina nonetheless. Robin blinks, and then blinks again, because there is no logical explanation for why Princess Regina of York is standing in the hallway of a boarding house in the middle of the night, clearly waiting for him to say something, but there she is.

A million questions flood his mind, but all he can manage is a breathless, “Regina?”

She tries to smile, but her chin starts to tremble and even in the murky moonlight, he can see the tears pooling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “Hi,” she warbles, and Robin’s heart breaks in two.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, pulling her inside and immediately into his arms. He shuts the door with one hand and then pulls down the hood of her cloak, threading his fingers through her hair. She presses her face hard against his collar and locks her arms around his back as her shoulder start to shake. The sudden force of her cries has a bubble of panic rising in Robin’s chest. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What’s the matter?”

She doesn’t answer, just continues to cling to him, and all Robin can do is hold her, shushing and soothing as he runs his palm up and down her back. He can only imagine her mother said or did something to upset her, but he can’t think of what she might have done to cause Regina to seek him out in the middle of the night. Yes, her mother’s behavior at supper was mortifying, but even that doesn’t seem like enough to make Regina take the risk of coming to see him.

“Darling, please, you’re scaring me,” Robin murmurs, rocking them gently from side to side. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Regina sniffs and pulls herself back slowly until they can see each other properly. Her eyes are red, her skin blotchy, and she is tragically beautiful. Robin wipes away her tear tracks with his thumb, eyes flitting back and forth between her own as he waits. He smiles encouragingly and Regina takes a deep breath.

“I’m getting married.”

Every fiber in Robin’s body freezes. “You’re what?” he whispers, the pounding of his heart filling his ears.

“Mother and Duke Blanchard decided on it tonight,” Regina explains, more tears filling her eyes. “I leave for Saxony at the end of the week.”

All the air leaves Robin at once and he stumbles back, away from her as he drops down onto his bed, a numbness creeping up his legs. “Duke Blanchard?” he says in disbelief. “You’re marrying  _ him?  _ But he’s older than your father!”

Regina tilts her head back, trying to stop the tears from falling, but to no avail. “Mother said it doesn’t matter, that she doesn’t care,” she manages, voice tight and high pitched. “He wants to marry me, and he’s rich. She couldn’t think of a better match.”

Robin drops his head into his hands. He’s losing her. He’s actually losing her. He always knew, was always aware that she wouldn’t stay unwed forever, that her mother would jump on any chance to find a suitable husband for her, but he never thought, never imagined that it would happen so soon, that their time together would end so suddenly. If his heart was broken before, it’s completely shattered now at the thought that his love, his beautiful, brilliant Regina will spend her life married to a lecherous old man in a castle, in a town, in a kingdom so very far away from him.

“This isn’t… oh, God, please tell me she isn’t doing this because we were together at supper,” Robin begs, standing again. “Because if it is, I swear, Regina, I will-”

But she’s shaking her head, closing the distance between them to take his hands. “No, Robin, it’s not,” she assures him. “Mother’s been looking for a husband for me for a long time. From what it sounded like, the Duke approached her about it.”

Robin scowls. “He’s disgusting. You’re hardly older than his daughter and he wants to marry you?”

Regina only shrugs helplessly. “He’s a duke. He can do what he wants.” She chuckles bitterly. “Just like my mother.”

Robin closes his eyes and exhales in frustration, pulling her close again, nearly breaking down at how perfectly she fits against him. They are perfect for each other, made and matched in every way, and the universe is unbearably cruel for showing him the other half of his soul only to rip it away so violently and suddenly. It’s not fair. Nothing is fair about this, and Robin’s stomach turns at the mantra that has haunted them from the very first time she kissed him in her room so long ago. Not fair, not fair, not fair. 

It’s not fair. And he won’t stand for it any longer.

Their love is whole, and pure, and  _ everything _ to him, but since the first sparking of his heart, life and expectations and her  _ fucking  _ mother have tried to douse his flame. And he is sick and tired of having to hide what he feels for her, of having to pretend that one glance, one touch, one smile from her does not set his entire soul on fire. She is warm and real and  _ perfect  _ in his arms, and he is not going to let life kick them in the teeth one more time.

“Marry me instead.”

Regina pulls her head back from him, eyes wide and round and searching. “What?” she asks on a breath.

“Marry me instead,” Robin repeats, earnestness rising in his chest as his mind starts to whirl.

“Robin, what are you-”

“Let’s run away together,” he goes on, reaching for her hands and squeezing them tightly. Her eyes go even wider at that and she starts shaking her head, but Robin presses on. “We can leave here, leave everything behind, and  _ go.  _ My friend- the one I was visiting today- his ship leaves tomorrow for the New World. We can sail across the ocean and never have to see your mother or that stupid duke ever again. We can start a new life and be happy and-”

“Robin, we can’t just  _ leave,”  _ Regina interrupts incredulously. “What would my mother say?”

“Who gives a flying fuck about what your mother says?” Robin exclaims, too excited to censor himself. “She’ll be here, throwing a tantrum, and we’ll be gone, free, a million miles away where she can’t touch us.” He brings his hands up to her face, baring his whole soul as he looks at her pleadingly. “Regna, please. I love you. I love you more than life itself. And I cannot bare the thought of you spending the rest of your days in some dark old castle with some slimy old man. Not when you have the chance to be free. To live your life however you damn well please. To look at your rocks and study your minerals and read and learn and  _ love  _ to your heart’s content. I want that for you. I want that  _ with  _ you. Even if it means I’m going to be wrong ninety percent of the day.”

She smiles softly at that. “Try one hundred percent of the day,” she laughs quietly. She looks at him hopefully for a moment, and Robin’s heart swells, thinking she’s going to agree with him, and then: “But what about my father?”

Ah, crap, he forgot about that. Robin glances around the room as he thinks, encouraged by the swirling of her hands along his sides. “We’ll leave a letter for him,” he suggests. “Let him know where we’ve gone, and why, and promise that we’ll take up a correspondence with him as soon as we’re settled.”

Regina chews on her bottom lip, uncertain. “Do you think… will he be happy for us?”

“Darling, that man loves you more than anything in the world,” Robin says. “I know all he wants is for you to be happy.” He smiles at her tenderly. “As do I.”

Regina thinks it over for a long moment, eyes flitting back and forth between his own, reservation sticking to her features, until finally: “Okay.”

Robin’s smile grows slowly. “Okay?” he asks, needing to be sure.

Regina blows out a breath and nods. “Okay,” she says again, nodding once and then nodding again, more sure this time, her lips curving upward with every beat of Robin’s heart.

His chest feels like it’s going to burst as he swoops in and kisses her, reveling in her joyful giggle as he lifts her off her feet to spin her around. She wraps her arms around his neck and brings their lips back together, their kiss breaking apart from the stubbornness of their smiles. God, she is beautiful and perfect and  _ his  _ and nothing has ever felt more right than this exact moment. He sets her down and presses his forehead against hers, stroking her cheek. “I love you, future Mrs. Locksley,” he whispers, closing his eyes to just feel her.

“I love you too… future not-Prince Robin of York,” she laughs, a melodious sound that he will forever commit to memory. His heart double-taps at that thought, because a forever with her is finally possible.

* * *

They leave the next night, under the sliver of the crescent moon. Regina sneaks out of the castle, over her balcony and down the vines like she’s done so many times before as a young girl sneaking out to the stables. She brings her simplest gowns and shoes, her favorite book, and as many of her jewels as would fit. Fine gems and metals will sell for a pretty penny in the New World, a penny which she and Robin plan to use to build a house and support themselves until work comes along. She should turn her nose up at hard work, after so many years of living in the castle, but the thought of working a farm or running a shop sends a thrill up her spine. She’s actually going to get to  _ do  _ something with her life. A life she’ll spend with the man she loves.

She leaves a note for Daddy, tucks it into his dressing gown so only he will find it. In it, she tells him she loves him, so very much, but that she cannot live a lie, cannot live the life expected of her. She tells him their plan and promises to write again as soon as she’s able, and promises that they will see each other again someday. She leaves no word for her mother or sister. She had no idea how liberating it would feel to disappear from their lives without another thought.

Robin is waiting for her by the docks, hidden in the shadows near a large ship with big white sails and the name “Jolly Roger” written across the side. He kisses her quickly and then ushers her aboard, careful to not draw attention from any other night owls that may be lurking about. The captain and Robin’s friend, Killian Jones, wastes no time in setting sail, ordering his men to be “quick and quiet about it.” Jones tell her that they are indeed headed for the New World, the colonies specifically, a new settlement north of the Maryland Colony that the English have just acquired. Knowing where they are going has her even more excited to be there, and she hopes their three week journey passes quickly.

She doesn’t watch as the shores of England disappear behind them. She doesn’t need to. Instead, she watches as the sun rises in the distance, a new day, a new start, a new  _ life  _ waiting for her just beyond the horizon.

Robin comes up behind her on deck and rests his chin on her shoulder, arms protective around her waist. “Are you ready, darling?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Warmth spreads from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Regina turns in his arms and cannot help her smile as she gazes into the eyes of a man who has taught her new things, brought love into her life, and opened her world to a bright new future. All things she never thought she’d have. “Yes,” she answers, kissing him softly. “I’m ready for a new adventure.”


End file.
